Lonely
by Elna11
Summary: John and Mary visit the flat with their newborn, but the visit soon sends Sherlock into a downwards spiral...


**AN: This is the result of boredom and needing to write something quick and sad. This does include suicide - not graphic, but yeah. I might carry this on, but I'm not sure. I hope you enjoy this :3 (also posted on my WattPad - prettylittlekilljoys)  
**SEASON 3 REFERENCES

The flat was completely silent now; save for the soft sound of shuffling from Mrs Hudson downstairs. Even the violin was silent; tossed carelessly onto the coffee table next to numerous case files and empty cups. John and Mary had left a few hours ago; it was the first time they had brought their new-born baby to visit 221B. Mrs Hudson had flitted around, bringing tea and biscuits and fussing over the little girl like she was her own; the new parents happily obliging to let Mrs Hudson cradle and swoon over the child. When Mary asked Sherlock if he wanted to hold the baby, he saw the swift change in John's gaze; hopefulness, he figured (knowing that Sherlock wasn't one for this sort of thing), and complete adoration of the baby Sherlock was now holding gingerly in his arms. Swathed in a fluffy pink blanket, a small little face (equally as pink) emerged; big blue-green eyes bore into his own.

"_She has his father's eyes, doesn't she, Sherlock?_"Mrs Hudson sighed, tilting her head to one side, happy tears filling her own. Nodding in response, Sherlock moved to give the little girl to John. As he did, Sherlock caught a glimpse of John's face – amazement; much like when Sherlock had deduced all the little facts about him at their first meeting. Sherlock's heart – the one he had only just started to come to terms with – panged in sadness. _Love. _Sherlock saw love in John's eyes. Over the years, Sherlock had seen a lot of emotions expressed through his best friends' – _his best friends'_ – face. But never love.  
Not at him when he returned, not with all John's failed attempts at getting a girlfriend before the fall, not at him when he returned, well, never _ever _at him. Not like this. With his absence over the last 2 years, John had moved on and built a life without him.  
Sherlock had been the one holding him back, always dragging him into dangerous cases when he was trying "to get off" with some date, criticizing his blog posts (sometimes too harshly) and constantly putting his life at risk. _But John didn't have to come, _Sherlock's mind argued against him. _But who else did he have? _It counteracted. _No relationships, no job, no friends, except his alcoholic sister. You were thrown into his life when there was no-one else; but then you abandoned him, and he moved on. You hurt him. You made him mourn. It's all your fault. And you know it, don't you? Sherlock. _He willed his mind to shut up, but then again, it never did. Always racing out of control, one thing leading onto the next... This was a gift in solving crimes, but a punishment when trying to forget.  
And Sherlock knew he had to. John had a family now. Didn't need him… _and it's all your fault…._

And now Sherlock was sitting on his own in the dark flat, John's empty chair in front of him, nothing but the gun and the silence to keep him company. _Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock…. _Mycroft's words echoed, the resounding sound ringing in his ears… But this is what he got, wasn't it? He cared. He let John in, let him rule his heart. Let it rule his head, and now it was killing him. He swore he heard John's laughter downstairs, as he picked up the handgun with one hand. _Time to finish what Mary started…. Remember? Mary. John needs her now, not you… your fault… all your fault….  
_He internally screamed for his thoughts to become as silent as the air around him. John's voice still bounced around from downstairs. _You're imagining it….. He's not here, you're lonely… You have no-one…._ _One more move, and then it's all over, Sherlock…. _Moriarty's taunts sounded again in his mind, from when Mary shot him first. And now he'd be joining him again. Only this time, he wouldn't have a reason to leave, John wasn't in danger, and he won't be bothered, he got on fine before….

Black spots started to cloud Sherlock's vision… and shouts, loud… louder than his mind's… and more vivid…

"Sherlock!"


End file.
